at first, that forest feel of mouths
& would-have waters
lightlicked
the forest yearning
now watch: inlet mouths tell blunder, fallacy
& gaffe
press hard light in our chests—
indelicate be the gleaming from that particular hardened light
the black-texture slips
blackthorn
shakes then and so, a lung dislodged: the shadows
the virgin appeared among hawthorns
gut shot